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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828286">A Memory From Manaan</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/walk_ng_d_saster/pseuds/walk_ng_d_saster'>walk_ng_d_saster</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Disaster Boyfriends [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Flirting, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Hugs, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kindness, Theron Shan is a Sweetheart, Understanding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:47:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/walk_ng_d_saster/pseuds/walk_ng_d_saster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A forgotten moment on Manaan that lead to a mutual understanding and respect between Theron and the famous smuggler captain, Zajeer Kim. Takes place months before the fic 'How-To."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Theron Shan &amp; Male Smuggler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Disaster Boyfriends [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922869</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Memory From Manaan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">“Hey.” Zajeer's shivering was interrupted by a warm hand landing on his shoulder. A hand that caused him to squeak and jump a foot into the air.</p><p class="western">“How many times have I told you, Riggs? When we've just been on a scary mission, you don't <em>DO</em> tha-” Zajeer began, but his words were quickly choked off as he spun about and realized that it wasn't Corso but <em>Theron</em> standing in front of him with a look of concern on his face. An awkward silence descended as Zajeer found himself gazing up into the softest, kindest, most <em>beautiful</em> pair of green-golden eyes he had ever seen.</p><p class="western">“Are you okay?” Theron asked, breaking the silence as the nautolan ducked his head guiltily, avoiding the human's gaze.</p><p class="western">“Not really, no.” Zajeer replied, shivering again. A part of him still felt like he and Corso were still trapped down in that sinking science lab, fighting for their lives as they were on the verge of being crushed. Pain, anger and hatred had been coming off of the experimental selkath in thick and choking waves, and Zajeer had been swept away in its current. He'd fought harder and more viciously than he'd ever fought in his <em>life</em>, spurred on by the creature's tormented emotions. It made him sick to his stomach to think of what he'd almost done, standing over the body as the selkath wheezed out its final breaths. A small, dark part of him had delighted in the creature's dying gasps. A darker part still had wanted to prolong that suffering as punishment for his blind hatred.</p><p class="western">Lana Beniko had already gone, and it was just he and Theron standing alone in a big, sterile gray and white room with a desk as its only furniture. So cold. So clinical. So <em>oppressive</em>. The room showed no sign of having been lived in or even worked in. There were no personal effects to be seen, <em>anywhere</em>.</p><p class="western">Memories assaulted him and Zajeer was thrown back to the underwater lab. Thrown back into that wretched dark place with a dying selkath in front of him. Despite his best efforts to control his emotional response, he could feel the bile rising into his throat, stomach acid burning as he forcibly swallowed.</p><p class="western"><em>Stars</em>... he was going to be <em>sick</em> if he stayed here, in this cold sterile facility that reminded him too much of what he'd just done<em>.</em></p><p class="western">“Sorry for snappin'. I need t'get outta here.” he said in a rush, clapping a hand over his mouth and running past Theron, out the door and out into the sunlight.</p><p class="western">-o-</p><p class="western">As the nautolan fled, hand over his mouth and looking rather green around the edges, Theron wasted no time in following him.</p><p class="western">He trailed Zajeer at a distance, watching as he nimbly wove in and out of the pillars and avoided being seen by Corso, who was standing by the water's edge and having a well deserved drink. Come to think of it, Theron could go for a Caf... maybe spiked with a little something <em>extra</em>, but he had a job to do first.</p><p class="western">Finally, at the far end of the floating complex, Zajeer stopped running and learned on the guard rail that stopped visitors from falling into the water. He glanced around himself as if making sure he hadn't been followed, so Theron ducked out of sight behind one of the support pillars. He was careful to keep to the shadows, peeking out only when the nautolan finally stopped looking around and let out a shaky breath, folding his arms around himself. He no longer looked green, but he had his eyes closed and was swaying slightly where he stood, gripping his own shoulders.</p><p class="western">It was almost as if the nautolan was <em>hugging</em> himself.</p><p class="western">Didn't Zajeer have friends who would hug him when he needed one?</p><p class="western">Looking back at his time as an SIS Agent, Theron could remember all of the times that he'd come back from a mission as shell shocked as Zajeer. Back then, he'd had no one to turn to. No constant friends. No family that wasn't emotionally unavailable. He'd been as alone as Zajeer appeared to be now, and he'd be lying if he said <em>he</em> didn't resort to hugging himself. Sometimes, closing his eyes and hugging himself was all he could do to keep from falling apart at the seams. It was the only thing that kept him sane after the more traumatic experiences....</p><p class="western">... and right now, Zajeer needed a hug. Theron was the only person in a position to give him one.</p><p class="western">-o-</p><p class="western">Because his eyes were closed, Zajeer didn't see Theron coming towards him. Because he was too focused on comforting himself, he didn't see hear Theron's boots on the metal or notice the human's proximity until a pair of warm arms gathered him close and he found himself nuzzling into soft brown fabric. Opening his eyes, the first thing to greet him was a very distinctive red and black jacket. Inhaling, he could smell leather and a pleasantly spicy aftershave with an underlying earthy muskiness that must have been Theron himself. It was a singularly intoxicating scent, and unconsciously he found himself nestling in closer, making himself as small as possible. He let go of his own shoulders and instead gripped at the soft fabric of Theron's shirt, feeling the texture of the weave through the thin and butter-soft leather of his gloves. It felt like it would be comfortable and pleasant on the skin. A very nice material.</p><p class="western">“Does this help at all?” Theron asked, his voice so low and so quiet that Zajeer was sure he was the only one who would be able to hear him.</p><p class="western">“Actually, yeah...” Zajeer replied, He let go of Theron's shirt and lowered his hands to his sides “Thanks, Theron. I guess I really needed that,”</p><p class="western">“Good.” Theron seemed to take that as his cue to let go, because he lowered his arms to his sides and took a step back from Zajeer. “You seemed pretty shaken by what happened down there... I was worried that you were rushing out here to be sick, so I followed you.”</p><p class="western">“Not so much by what happened as by what I was forced t'do to th'poor tormented selkath down in th'lab,” Zajeer shuddered, “I hate killin' people who aren't in their right mind. A chat with a therapist and some prescription medication would've made all th'difference in the galaxy for that big guy.”</p><p class="western">“Maybe so,” Theron agreed, surprising him. “Maybe he could have been saved if he'd had a chance to talk to you without the pain of forced implants.”</p><p class="western">“I jus' don't know how much use I'm going t'be in these missions,” Zajeer sighed, shaking his head. “Th'Void Wolf was bad enough, Now we're dealin' with a cult of lunatics who're all followin' a man who should've died centuries ago.”</p><p class="western">-o-</p><p class="western">“If you want me to, Captain, I can call someone else for these missions. It doesn't <em>have</em> to be you,” Theron offered.</p><p class="western">Clearly, his words had taken the nautolan by surprise. Suddenly all Theron could focus on was a pair of enormous, sun-golden eyes that were so atypical of a nautolan. They, along with the patterns of yellow spots on the nautolan's tentacles stood out in striking contrast with the the bluish purple skin.</p><p class="western">“Y'know... I did consider callin' it quits after th'assault on Tython, but somethin' tells me there's a much bigger plot t'all of this and if I bow out now I'll never know what it is until it's too late,” Zajeer replied after a moment. “I could jus' kark off and never be seen or heard of again, but I know I'm gonna regret it.”</p><p class="western">“So you're staying?” Theron could feel his eyebrows rising, both from the alien curse word and from genuine surprise.</p><p class="western">“Well, yeah. You did ask me nicely t'help and I already promised I would,” said Zajeer. “I dunno how many shifty shady smugglers you've met, but I'm not one of 'em. I don't break my promises. I keep 'em or I die tryin'...” A pause. “... That and... y'know... you gave me a hug when I needed one th'most.” The nautolan let his voice trail off, then began to dig around around in one of the hidden inner pockets of his vest, looking for something.</p><p class="western">Wait... Hidden inner pockets?</p><p class="western">Sure enough, there were a dozen or more pockets carefully sewn into the interior panel of the vest Zajeer wore... and that was where a lot of the nautolan's bulk had come from. The reality was that Zajeer was very thin, almost <em>fragile</em> in appearance... He had muscles like whipcord over bone and looked as if the slightest breeze would cause him to topple over, and yet he had fought the enhanced selkath with ferocity and a grim determination. His trigger fingers on his blasters had been a blur as he had zigzagged around the room, avoiding being struck but luring the selkath into the molten metal leaking from the ceiling,</p><p class="western">Theron almost hadn't <em>believed</em> what he had seen on the security feed, but Lana had been sitting beside him. Her quiet gasps helped drive it home.</p><p class="western">“Here,” Zajeer said suddenly, breaking Theron out of his thoughts. He was holding out a closed hand with something hidden in it, so Theron cupped his hands underneath it. He felt rather than saw Zajeer drop something into his hands, and then the nautolan pulled his hand back. Seeing what was now in his hands, his eyes went wide and he could feel himself beginning to tremble with excitement..,</p><p class="western">It was a shred of fabric from the Voidwolf's uniform, complete with the badges denoting his rank among the imperials and the scarlet rope that decorated it.</p><p class="western">“Proof that I'm th'real deal,” Zajeer muttered, ducking his head and averting his gaze.</p><p class="western">“You actually stopped him,” Theron replied, unable to keep his voice from cracking as he turned the fabric and the badges over in his hands, examining them from every angle. “Do you know how many lives you've saved? How many people feel safer knowing he's no longer at large?”</p><p class="western">“Countless, m'sure” The nautolan waved a hand dismissively. “M'not proud of it 'cause I don't like killin' people, but that guy was <em>beyond</em> redemption.”</p><p class="western">“I know you don't like killing people,” said Theron, tracing a hand over the rope on the fabric before handing it back to Zajeer. “When I was gathering intel about you, I kept track of your adventures.. There were surprisingly few casualties, and many who praised your name.”</p><p class="western">“I jus' wanted t'make the galaxy a better place t'live in,” Zajeer replied, with a shrug of his narrow shoulders. “Life may have dealt me a bad hand, but that doesn't mean everyone else deserves t'suffer for it. Doesn't make it right for me t'kill people... no matter how badly I might feel.” A pause, and then Zajeer looked up at Theron with a very serious expression on his face. “I've got friends and admires, yeah, but sometimes I still feel like I'm alone.”</p><p class="western">“I'm an SIS Agent. I know how that is,” Theron told him, as Zajeer tucked the Voidwolf's badges back into his inner pocket. “I can relate.”</p><p class="western">“M'sure you can.” Zajeer punctuated his statement with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow ridge, and Theron felt himself smiling back. For a long moment, neither one of them spoke, Zajeer breaking eye contact and gazed off into the horizon. Theron followed Zajeer's gaze and looked out at the waves.</p><p class="western">Now the silence they shared was an easy one, One of two people who understood each other.</p><p class="western">-o-</p><p class="western">“Captain,” After several minutes had passed, with the two of them watching the ocean and breathing the salty air, Theron spoke. The human was about to say more, but Zajeer held up his hand to stop him. This use of titles was starting to grate on his nerves.</p><p class="western">“Call me Zajeer, Agent Shan... Titles are so impersonal,” he told Theron, whose eyes widened before he nodded his understanding.</p><p class="western">“In that case, call me Theron,” Theron replied, his lips curving up into a smile. And then, there... Zajeer felt it. A tendril of warmth and affection coming off of the human that was directed at <em>him</em>. It curled around his hearts and made them beat a little faster, and he stepped a little closer to let himself bask in it. His eyes closed and then opened in a slow and lazy blink, and he could feel the corners of his mouth curling upward.</p><p class="western">Then Theron saw him smiling back, and his smile only grew wider and more confident. It also reached his eyes, and made them sparkle like jewels. A striking contrast against Theron's naturally bronzed complexion and almost chocolate brown hair. The uniquely spiky hairdo was losing its structural integrity the longer they stood out here in the salty spray, and the spikes were starting to go every which way instead of a straight and orderly line. The posture of the man was also more relaxed than it had been inside the building. His hands dangled loosely at his sides and there was a relaxed slump to his shoulders. He wasn't holding himself up so stiffly or rigidly, anymore, and he seemed to be enjoying the fresh air</p><p class="western">'<em>Fuck, he's gorgeous,</em>' Zajeer thought to himself, widening his own smile and feeling the skin at the corners creasing. '<em>What did I do to get his attention?</em>'</p><p class="western">“You should do that more often,” Theron commented, softly,</p><p class="western">“Huh???” Caught off guard, Zajeer could not grace Theron with an appropriate response. He ducked his head and averted his gaze again</p><p class="western">“Smile,” Theron told him, stepping closer and reaching out a leather clad hand to tilt Zajeer's chin upward. Zajeer allowed the touch, squinting up at Theron as he leaned into the gentle fingers. “It suits you.” A thumb gently traced over the curve of Zajeer's lower lip, and then the hand and its warmth were gone.</p><p class="western">“Could say th'same about you, y'know,” said Zajeer. “That smile combined with those eyes? You'd be breakin' hearts everywhere you went,”</p><p class="western">“What if I don't <em>want</em> to break someone's heart?” Theron's voice took on a flirtatious tone, and his smile returned full force. “What if I'd rather protect it?”</p><p class="western">“Then a person would have t'be blind or stupid t'refuse you, of which <em>I</em> am neither,” Zajeer reached up and gently booped Theron on the nose, and the human went adorably cross-eyed for a moment, trying to track his fingertip. “If I had someone as kind-hearted as you fightin' in my corner, I'd never let you go.”</p><p class="western">“I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens, then,” Theron replied, stepping closer.</p><p class="western">“I guess we will,” Zajeer agreed, meeting Theron halfway.</p><p class="western">Theron draped his right arm over Zajeer's narrower shoulders and gathered him close to his side, and Zajeer's left arm went around his waist. Together, the two of them stood and watched the ocean. The comfortable silence returned, and with it came a new sense of hope for a better future.</p><p class="western">Zajeer couldn't be sure what the near future would hold but somehow, he knew he and Theron would face it together.</p><p class="western">-- END</p>
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